How'd They Get So Wet . . .

All week the forecast called for a rainy day on Mother's Day. Fortunately, the forecast doesn't control the weather. So on an unexpectedly nice Mother's Day we took Lynda on a canoe trip down the Brandywine River.

While waiting for our van ride up the river, we saw a group of adults come in from the river soaking wet. We've canoed here before and only gotten a little wet. In early May the river was still cold, so it didn't make sense that they would get so wet intentionally. Then Lynda put the jinx on us by wondering out loud “How'd they get so wet?”

Papa goose protecting his flock

Despite the beautiful May weather, we had the Brandywine all to ourselves—we never saw another group on the river. We eased down the river at a relaxed pace. Kristin and I paddled one canoe with Lauren snapping photos while Lynda and Michael paddled a second canoe. We searched for a geocache hidden along the river, but came up empty. No big deal. It's a lovely day to be out paddling.

Llamas on a canoe trip?

About halfway down the river we pulled over at a small campground to have a picnic lunch. After thanking the Lord for our moms, we dug into our hoagies. Refueled and ready to go, an odd piggyback competition broke out: Michael wanted to show he could run with the big dogs by giving everyone a piggyback ride. Then somehow the girls got in on it and before you knew it a 10 year old is carrying her big sister—who's feet almost touch the ground --- and the boy is carrying his dad.

After that silliness subsided, we loaded back into the canoes. With all of the rain that fell this spring, the river was riding higher and faster than normal. Fortunately, that made the paddling easier.

We portaged our canoes around a dam a short ride downstream from lunch. Michael & Lynda pushed off from the portage first and struggled to get past a tree branch that formed a strainer. Unwittingly, we let the fast current take us right behind them. Worse yet, trying to avoid the tree we turned a little sideways, and before you knew it our canoe flipped and stuff went everywhere. The girls came up laughing while I scrambled to get the paddles, flip flops and other gear that were floating away. Getting everything was like trying to herd cats. But within a few minutes all the gear and personnel were accounted for along the rivers edge.

The cold hadn't set in yet, so everyone was thought it was hysterical . . . that is everyone except for me. Our waterproof camera fell somewhere to the bottom of the fast-moving river and the water resistant gps in my pocket was not waterproof. I didn't need anymore charges against the stupidity account to replace electronics—let's not talk about how much it costs to replace a lost smart key.

With our gear securely on the riverbank, I headed back into the river to search for the camera (yes I took the gps out of my pocket and left it on the shore). In the area where the canoe flipped, the water was over five foot deep and moving so fast I couldn't stand in the river. Between the fast current and the sticks and leaves on the bottom, the riverbed was a big blur. Assuming that the camera wouldn't fall straight down, I moved down stream. Twenty feet down from where we capsized, there it sat. Bright and shiny, the orange camera rested on the bottom, easily visible through 4 feet of cold clear river water.

Have you ever stood waist-deep in a pool thinking it was way too cold to go under? OK, think 15 degrees colder. The water was too deep to simply reach down and grab the camera. And I froze (literally) contemplating the chill I faced diving under to retrieve the camera. Lauren offered to get it, but I couldn't do that to her. Then she realized we didn't need to go under. Lauren had on flip flops. She took one off and used her mad monkey-feet skills to grab the camera and pull it up. We knew that skill would come in handy some day.

Back in the boat, the cold finally started to set in as we paddled downstream. Rowing helped keep me warm, but the chill started to set in on the girls—especially Kristin. My little stick figure has no insulation to help stay warm. The poor thing shivered in the middle seat. Finally, Michael gave up his rowing seat and let Kristin get rowing to try to stay warm. We had mocked Lynda for wearing a light sweatshirt on such a nice day, but as always, mother knows best. It was big, but it was nice and warm—just what Kristin needed.

When the sun shown through, the warm rays felt like a blanket wrapped around us. Unfortunately, the clouds took over for most of the rest of our trip. Chilled, but not frozen, we paddled down, enjoying a relaxing afternoon. With the water level so high we floated right over the shallow rocky areas without having to get out to push. Still, between lunch, the geocache hunt and the search and rescue our 2-1/2 hour trip took 4 hours. Last one on the river. Last ones off.

Cold, wet and tired, we peeled off our wet clothes before getting in the van. I wished I hadn't moved the van to park in the shade. Getting into a sauna hot car would feel good right about now—except of course for Lynda and Michael who had stayed warm and dry. But it was Mother's Day, so if anyone was going to stay warm and dry, it should be the mom.

With the chill gone and the electronics rescued, it was much easier to laugh about everything as we tucked the kids in that night. The picnic was great and the paddling was fun. But for Lauren and Kristin the best part was flipping—and for Michael the best part was watching us flip.

We'll remember this Mother's Day for a long time, even without pictures—but fortunately we rescued the camera so we have them.